


Pretzel Arrives

by patchfire, raving_liberal



Series: Story of Three Boys [77]
Category: Glee
Genre: Babies, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-11
Updated: 2012-08-11
Packaged: 2017-11-11 20:26:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/482588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/patchfire/pseuds/patchfire, https://archiveofourown.org/users/raving_liberal/pseuds/raving_liberal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Life is what happens to you while you're busy making other plans.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Not Following the Plan

Over the last two weeks, Carole’s learned not to gasp too loudly or clutch at her belly too rapidly. Burt’s constantly on the alert for signs of labor, so when she first feels a few contractions, she doesn’t call downstairs to let him know. Instead, she takes a shower, letting the water beat on her back before she turns to face the water, standing under it through another three contractions. 

She decides perhaps she should tell Burt when she has to stop partway through drying off to breathe through another contraction. They’ve still got hours yet, of course, but Burt might want to go to bed a little earlier, and she’ll try to sleep through a bit of it, too. 

Carole makes it to the top of the stairs before she determines that going all the way down doesn’t sound like that much fun, so she stops and holds onto the rail at the top. “Burt!” she calls loudly. 

“Carole? Is everything okay?” Burt shouts back, appearing at the bottom of the stairs before he’s finished talked. “Honey? What’s wrong?”

“Everything’s fine,” Carole says. “I just wanted to give you a heads up, is all.”

“A heads up about what?” Burt looks slightly confused, but the puzzled expression changes into one of almost comic shock. “The baby? Is it baby time?”

“She’s getting a little eager.” Carole rubs her belly, feeling it start to tighten. “I’m sure we’ve got plenty of time before we need to head to the hospital, even.”

“Let me get my phone. I’ve got that app, and we can time your contractions!”

Burt hurries up the stairs after he grabs his phone and turns off the television, the house suddenly growing more quiet. Carole lies down on the bed and lets Burt time the contractions for awhile, which tells them that they’re pretty close together, but not a minute long yet. 

“Do you think you should go ahead and call the boys?” Carole asks between two contractions. She definitely thinks they are contractions, not rushes or any other name, like in some of the books she read.

“Should we call ’em now? You said we had plenty of time and I don’t want to worry them,” Burt says. He fiddles with his phone again. “Besides, if I call them, I can’t time your contractions.”

“They have to travel, Burt.” She shakes her head and tries to glare. “It’s okay if you don’t have a complete record.”

“Alright, I’ll go downstairs and give them a call. Do you want me to bring you up some of your labor punch when I come back? Or one of those fruit popsicles?”

Carole holds up her hand and waits out another contraction before responding. “Yes. Both. A straw for the laborade, though.”

“Popsicle, punch, straw, check. You want me to get the hot pack warmed up?” Burt hovers in the doorway. 

“Sure. Go call the boys, Burt.” 

Burt seems to finally realize that she really does want him to leave the room and call the boys, and he turns and hurries down the hall. She can hear him talking to someone, probably Kurt, down in the kitchen. Carole closes her eyes and breathes through another contraction. She doesn’t remember the contractions coming so close together so quickly with Finn, but she does expect a quicker labor than the two day marathon that was Finn’s labor. Burt comes back with her popsicle and a glass of laborade quicker than she expects, and she takes the popsicle and starts eating it. 

“Oh, that’s good,” she mutters. “You called the boys?”

“I sure did. Finn sends his love to you and the baby, and says he’s gonna talk to his coaches about getting out of the game tomorrow, since all he’s doing is sitting the bench anyway,” Burt says, pulling out his phone again and opening the contraction timer app. “Kurt’s already looking for flights.”

“Good, good.” Carole tries to figure out a way to lie down and keep eating the popsicle. “Oh, do you think we should call the doctor’s answering service?”

“I already did that while I was downstairs. I think a nurse or something’s supposed to call us back within fifteen minutes.”

“Maybe I should do something so I can rest,” Carole says. “I don’t know what a nurse is going to tell us.”

Burt looks at her a little oddly. “Whether or not it’s time to go in, I guess. Want me to put on your labor music for you, honey? I’ll turn the light off in here, too.”

“I’ll tell you when it’s time,” Carole insists, but she nods at Burt’s suggestions, then breathes through another contraction. Burt turns off the bedside lamp and flips on the bathroom light instead, closing the door so only a crack of light comes into the bedroom. Soon, the room is filled with the soft sound of the new–agey instrumental music she’d selected for labor. 

“I’m gonna go down and get your hot pack now. I’ll be right back up, okay?”

Carole nods, closing her eyes as Burt leaves the room. She’d just told someone at work yesterday that she didn’t remember labor, and it had been true. She remembers now, though, and the prospect of another eighteen hours or so makes her really want to sleep, even if it’s just for a few minutes at a time.

She doesn’t realize that Burt is back upstairs until she hears his phone blaring, and she lifts her head to glare at it and him. Burt fumbles to answer the call quickly, speaking in a low tone to whoever is on the other end. After a short period of mumbled conversation, Burt puts his hand over the phone.

“Honey, the nurse wants to talk to you.”

“Why?” Carole demands, then holds up her hand as another contraction hits. Maybe she should let Burt time a few again, because they’re either getting longer or closer together. Possibly even both. 

“I don’t know why,” Burt says. “She’s having another contraction now.”

“I know I’m having a contraction!”

“I’m telling the nurse!”

Carole’s first reaction is to tell Burt he’s a tattle-tale, even if she can’t quite determine why she wants to do that. Instead, she just glares again, picking up her laborade and taking a sip. “It’s not very cold. Weren’t they supposed to call back in fifteen minutes?” Not right away. 

Burt gives her that odd look again. “They were longer than they were supposed to be. It took ’em a half hour.” He puts the phone to his ear again. “I think we’ll give you guys a call back in a little while, alright?” He nods a few times at whatever the nurse is saying to him, then ends the call and flips back to the contraction time app. 

“Half an hour?” Carole starts to ask, then sighs and closes her eyes as a contraction starts. “I don’t like how loud it was.”

“I’ll put it on vibrate.” After her contraction ends, Burt says. “These are getting kinda close together, Carole. Maybe I shouldn’t have let the nurse hang up.”

“I’ll just go get in the shower again for a bit,” Carole decides, standing up slowly. “Can you get me more laborade?” She doesn’t wait for Burt to answer, just heads towards the bathroom. “I hate these contractions,” she says under her breath.

It feels like only a few contraction–filled minutes have passed before she hears Burt calling her name. “You doing okay in there? Your laborade’s starting to get warm.”

Carole waits for the contraction to end to respond, but it feels like it keeps going and going, so she finally manages to call back. “I’m fine.” She turns the water off, annoyed that the water heater seems to be getting empty already, and picks up the nearest towel. Another contraction starts, and Carole grabs the shower curtain. “Burt!” she starts to call, and then there’s a loud pop, amniotic fluid gushing everywhere. “Well. Shit.”

“Honey? Carole?” Burt rushes into the bathroom. “Are you okay? Do we need to head to the hospital now?”

“I.” Carole stops and manages to step out of the shower, leaning on the sink. “I think it’s too late for that, Burt.”

“Too late for— oh holy crap, is the baby coming _now_?” Burt immediately puts his arm across Carole’s back. “Should I call 911?”

“Stop that,” Carole says, shrugging his arm off. “Just call the nurse back. I pushed for two hours with Finn.”

“Okay, okay, calling the nurse.” Burt takes a step back from Carole and speaks rapidly into the phone. “I got the answering service again. You sure I don’t need to call 911?”

Carole exhales slowly. “What do they know about babies?”

“More than I do!”

She waves her hand at Burt and breathes through another contraction, bearing down with it. Carole is confident she couldn’t stop herself from pushing with it, actually. “What time is it?” she asks at the end of the contraction. 

“11:55,” Burt says. “Carole, are you pushing? Carole! Don’t push that baby out here!”

“Where, then?” Carole asks, closing her eyes and bending her knees more. 

“At the hospital. Where babies happen!”

Carole isn’t sure if she wants to laugh at Burt or possibly slap him, but then she starts contracting again, so both of them will have to wait. “Burt?” she says near the end of the contraction. 

“You want me to call 911 now?” Burt says, sounding hopeful.

“No, I want you to come catch the baby,” Carole says, sounding much more calm than she actually feels. 

“Catch the— _oh my god, Carole, that’s her head!_ ”

“Yes.” Carole feels like hitting something, but she keeps pushing instead. “Don’t let her fall!”

Burt takes a knee and extends his arms. “I’ve got her. I won’t let her fall!”

Time feels horribly slow as Carole pushes again, feeling the baby slide out, and there’s a brief silence before the baby starts screaming, loudly. Burt starts laughing.

“Carole! It’s a baby! She’s really a girl!”

“I know!” Carole sits down carefully, staring at Burt and the baby. “She’s here.” She reaches out her arms. “Let me have her.”

Burt gently passes the baby into Carole’s arms. “She needs blankets. We need pictures!”

“What time is it?” Carole asks, not looking up. “Oh, hi. Hi, baby girl. You were so fast!”

“12:03,” Burt says. “On her due date!” He stands and quickly walks into the bedroom, returning with a stack of baby blankets. “Here we go, little girl. Let’s make sure you don’t freeze.” He drapes a blanket over the baby and then another over one of Carole’s shoulders. She can dimly hear the quiet sound of Burt snapping some pictures with his phone. 

“So, do we still think she’s an Audrey?” Carole says. 

“Unless you think ‘Rocket’ is a good alternative.”

Carole laughs. “Hi, Audrey.”


	2. Near Miss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brothers, travel, space out of time/time out of space

Noah stretches and lets the door close behind him, glad to finally be heading home. He and Kurt have done a good job, he thinks, of having social lives, working and studying. The problem might be, even, that they're too good at it. Too determined not to be the couple that only knows each other. It's nine-thirty on a Friday evening, he's been at work for eight and a half hours, and before that he'd had two classes and an hour in a practice room. Kurt's been on his campus most of the day, and all Noah really wants is to pick up dinner and eat it with Kurt, locking the door and preferably not leaving the apartment again until after noon the next day. 

He grabs four tacos from a cart on a corner, plus a container of queso, and he and Kurt are scraping the bottom of the queso, on their last tacos, when Kurt's phone rings. 

Noah can't resist pouting a little when Kurt pulls away far enough to check the display, and Kurt laughs as he silences it. "It's just someone from that stupid stagecraft class. If I don't answer it and I forget to check my messages until tomorrow, that's perfectly legitimate." 

"You don't have to take like, stagecraft two, or anything, right?" Noah asks. "Seriously, blue eyes, it's been three weeks and I already hate that damn class."

"Oh, no one hates it more than I do," Kurt says darkly. "But no. No stagecraft two. I guess it's the musical theatre equivalent of pre-med weed–out classes or something." Kurt sighs and settles back against Noah. "You have to hate one of your classes, baby."

"English comp," Noah says promptly. "But then I'm done with that, too, so." He snorts. "Go us."

Kurt tilts his head back and kisses Noah slowly. "Go us indeed. This is the first Friday night we've spent alone in a month, you realize."

Noah groans. "I know."

"Maybe we should consider doing it more often."

"I'm pretty sure we should. Or Saturday night. Or any night, really." Noah laughs. 

"Hmm. Yes." 

Noah runs his hand down Kurt's back and presses his lips to Kurt's neck, and Kurt wraps his arms around Noah's neck just as Kurt's phone starts to ring again. This time, though, Noah recognizes the ringtone, and he pulls back with a frustrated sigh. "I swear."

"I know." Kurt shakes his head. "I should tell him you've decided to become more observant and not to call after sundown on Fridays." Noah laughs and shakes his head as Kurt answers. "Hi, Dad." 

“Hi, son,” Burt responds, as Kurt quickly puts him on speaker. Burt sounds flustered or shaky. “It’s, uh. I think it’s baby time.”

“But she’s due tomorrow,” Kurt says, looking at Noah like he’s confused. “I thought Carole said she’d probably be late.”

“Well, apparently she’s more punctual than we expected. Carole’s in labor, and I’m waiting on a call back from the nurse.”

“Should we be making travel plans, then?” Kurt asks, turning to look at the clock and frowning. “We both have to work Sunday, but tomorrow’s free.”

“Could still be awhile,” Burt says. “Apparently it was pretty long with Finn, and she doesn’t think it’s gonna be all that fast this time either, but… maybe you should consider looking for a flight, yeah.”

“Okay, we’ll look. It’s— well. Let us know any news?”

“I’ll update you as soon as something looks like it’s changing,” Burt promises. “Just think, some time in the next day or so, you’re gonna be a big brother.”

Kurt winces. “We’ll talk to you later, Dad.”

“Love you, Kurt.”

“Love you, Dad.” Kurt ends the call and turns to Noah with a slight frown. “I don’t know what kind of flights we can get into Ohio this late.”

“And then drive to Lima,” Noah says, nodding. 

“I’ll check, of course,” Kurt says, reaching for his laptop and opening it up. “But check and see if there are car rental places nearby. It may actually be faster to drive overnight. We can switch off every couple of hours.”

“Right.” Noah checks his own laptop, looking at a few sites before turning to Kurt. “There’s a couple of car rental places on 76th and 77th, between Broadway and Amsterdam.”

“The last flights to Ohio have already left,” Kurt reports. “The earliest, shortest flights in the morning still wouldn’t get us into Lima until later than we can get there driving. We can get a late flight back tomorrow, though, and we’ll still make it to work on Sunday morning.”

“Yeah, that makes sense.” 

They quickly pack a couple of bags and head up to the car rental places, and since it’s late, there’s no line, just papers to sign, before they get the keys to a black Ford Focus. 

"Well," Kurt says, putting their bags in the trunk. "It's something, anyway."

“At least we can fly back.”

Kurt nods and climbs behind the wheel. It doesn't take long to get out of the city and onto I-80; in fact it takes less time than Noah expects, but then he's not been out of the city since they got there, and barely outside Manhattan. They've definitely not been out of Manhattan since classes started. 

"You think she'll show up before we get there?"

Kurt shrugs. "Dad seemed pretty harried, but then…"

"Yeah." Noah laughs for a second, then picks up Kurt's free hand and squeezes it. 

"You okay?" Kurt says quietly. 

"Probably not," Noah acknowledges. "This is all pretty weird."

"I know." Kurt squeezes his hand. "You want to sleep? I've got coffee and a mostly–charged phone."

“Yeah. Don’t try to push through, though. We weren’t really prepared to drive all night.” Back in August, they'd been careful to get enough sleep for a few nights before, and they'd taken naps. This time? Too many late nights versus early nights, and full days in anticipation of a relatively lazy Saturday morning. 

They'd expected a call about Pretzel, but on some level, they hadn't planned for it at all. Too many variables and too many possible days, and Noah doesn’t have a clue what Finn will do. The one day Finn can't leave Madison is a Saturday. 

 

When Finn’s phone starts to vibrate halfway through _The Perks of Being a Wallflower_ , Theresa glares at him like she expects him to ignore it. It’s the end of September, though, and he knows any call could be the Official Pretzel Call, so Finn holds up his hand to indicate he’ll be right back. He exits the row of seats as quickly as he can and walks into the hallway outside the theatre, catching the call right before it goes to voicemail.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Finn,” Burt says, and Finn does a victory fist in the air, because he _knew_ it was the Pretzel Call!

“Is it Pretzel time? Tell me it’s Pretzel time!”

“Well, your mom’s in labor, and she says it could be a long while yet, but your brother and Puck are planning on going ahead and heading into town. Figured you might want to do the same.”

Finn’s about to agree that he’ll hop right on the next plane into the closest city in Ohio, when he remembers that tomorrow is Saturday, game day, and he can’t just schedule a flight without talking to his coaches first. “Shit,” he mutters. “Sorry, Burt. I’ve gotta call my coaches and see if they’ll excuse me from the game tomorrow. Won’t be doing anything but keeping the benches from being blown away anyway.”

“Okay, Finn,” Burt answers. Finn hears the refrigerator door opening and closing, followed by the sound of something being poured into a glass. “I’ve got to get back up to your mom now.”

“Tell her I love her. Pretzel, I mean!” Finn says. “You tell her that her big brother loves her and I’m gonna be there to meet her as soon as I can.”

Burt laughs. “I’ll do that, Finn. Just keep your phone on you, and I’ll update you if anything changes. Text me the flight info when you’ve got it. Use the AmEx.”

With that, Burt ends the call, and Finn shoves the phone back into his pocket. Pretzel time! His baby sister’s on her way, he needs to talk to his coaches, he’s got to book a flight, and he’s stuck here at the movie theatre watching a movie when he’s got so much other stuff to do. He walks back into the theatre and finds his seat, leaning over to whisper to Theresa.

“It was my dad. Mom’s in labor. I gotta rearrange some stuff and talk to my coaches and find a flight.”

Theresa frowns slightly, but then she nods and smiles at him. “If the movie’s done before you are, I’ll just meet you out in the lobby.”

“Cool. Thanks, Theresa.” Finn leans over and gives her a quick kiss on the cheek, then slides back out of their row and jogs down the steps. Coaches, flight, Pretzel; lots of stuff to think about, which means he doesn’t have to think about who else is going to be there this weekend. He has the whole flight from Wisconsin to Ohio to figure out how to act like a brother again.

 

By the time they stop around one, they’re about ten miles ahead of where they thought they’d be, and Noah grabs himself some coffee while Kurt pumps gas, though neither of them is used to something quite so fuel efficient. Noah doesn’t drive far before Kurt dozes off, and after a few more minutes, Noah turns the air conditioning up, aiming the vents at himself. He doesn't feel sleepy, but he'd rather make sure. 

The problem with the long drive is that it's way too much time to think. The last time someone Noah knew gave birth, it was Quinn, and the baby was Beth, and Noah'd be lying if he claimed the fact that Pretzel's a girl didn't make any sort of impact on him. He assumes he's done a pretty good job of hiding it, though, because Kurt's the only one who's even alluded to it. 

Seeing Beth, having contact with her, it helps, because he has to acknowledge what he couldn't quite grasp when she was born – neither he nor Quinn, even if they'd managed some form of non-romantic co-parenting, could have done for Beth what Shelby has. He doesn't want to descend into platitudes about the 'life she deserves' or anything, because he knows he at least would have done the best he could, and maybe that's part of it too. Maybe it's better for Beth, but he's pretty sure no one would argue against the idea that the adoption has definitely been better for him and Quinn. 

It doesn't mean Noah doesn't think about Beth, though, and considering his in–person memories of her are few, her birth looms large in his mind. Noah can't help but hope, fervently, that Carole's well past birth when they get there. He's also hoping Pretzel doesn't go to the nursery at all. 

Some things he just doesn't want to consider or think about. 

 

Finn talks to Coach Clyde in the lobby, then Coach Meredith on the drive back to Theresa’s dorm, then Coach Clyde again as Finn walks to his own dorm, and everybody’s really understanding, and everybody wants him to get home as soon as possible, but by the time Finn’s done with all the phone calls, he’s agreed to stay at the game until at least halftime. He doesn’t want to miss any time with Pretzel, and he doesn’t really want to risk losing time with Kurt and Puck, either, but football pays for school. Even if he’s not playing, football pays for school, and he needs to be on that bench and _ready_ to play, at least, even if it means he might miss something.

Coach Clyde already excused him from his Sunday workout and Monday practice; that’s more than fair, and if Finn had insisted he _had_ to be there, they probably would have let him go. This is part of that learning to be an adult thing, though, he’s pretty sure, missing out on things he wants to do because he has obligations to other people and other things. It sucks, and if it were just about classes, he wouldn’t give it a second thought, but it’s about more than that. He’s part of a team, and he has to be available to do what he’s supposed to do, especially if he ever wants a chance to see any game play over the next two years.

Admittedly, Finn feels a little shitty about maybe missing out on the first few hours of his baby sister’s life in exchange for increasing his chances of getting to play football, but at this point, football’s not only what’s paying for his school, it’s pretty much the biggest thing he’s got going for him. Friends, sure, and the Wisconsin Singers, and Theresa’s pretty cool, they’ve been out a bunch of times now, but nothing feels big enough or serious enough to fill that hole he’s got inside him these days. Football comes the closest.

Finn texts Burt to let him know that he can’t fly out until the next day, and includes all the flight information of the flight he’ll be on. He thinks about giving Kurt a call to see if he’s as excited as Finn is about Pretzel, but he figures Kurt is either sleeping or flying right now, so instead, Finn decides he’ll make himself try to get some sleep, since tomorrow’s a game day.

He’s just drifted off when his phone rings with Burt’s ringtone. Finn glances at the clock—12:17—and then answers his phone.

“Hey, you got my text?”

“I did, and that’s a shame about the flight, ’cause you’ve got a new baby sister!” Burt says. He sounds really happy, and almost like he’s a tiny bit drunk.

“What? Already?” Finn sits bolt upright in bed. “But you only called me like three hours ago, and Mom says babies don’t happen fast in real life like they do on tv!”

“Well, I guess Audrey wasn’t listening to that little lecture of your mom’s,” Burt answers, chuckling. “She’s here, alright. Born at 12:03, I guess that’s 11:03 your time, head full of dark hair, and the paramedics brought in their little scale thing. She weighs eight pounds, five ounces.”

“Paramedics? Uh, aren’t you guys at the hospital?”

“Yeah, your sister’s not real big on sticking with the original plans, apparently. Went a little faster than we thought it would, but the paramedics checked your mom and the baby out, and said they were fine. Dr. Lee said to go in tomorrow morning, so your mom’s just lying down in the bed with the baby, getting some sleep,” Burt explains. “I’ll text you some photos in a couple of minutes, but I’ve got to give Kurt and Puck a call and figure out where they’re at with their travel.”

“Yeah, ok, wow.” Finn’s a little stunned. He’s got a brand new sister, and game or no game, he missed her being born. He gets to see her tomorrow, though, and Kurt and Puck, too. “Ok, well, yeah, send me some pictures, and, uh. Let me know when they’ll be in town. I’ll keep you guys updated on my travel stuff.”

“Alright, Finn, you do that,” Burt says. “We’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Yeah, tomorrow,” Finn says. “Oh, and congratulations… _Dad_.” Burt chuckles again, then ends the call. Baby Pretzel—baby _Audrey_ —is finally here, Finn has a little sister, one he shares with Kurt, and it’s the weirdest, coolest thing ever. 

 

Noah isn’t sure when he last saw another vehicle on the road, because Pennsylvania in the middle of the night is pretty deserted. He’s not even halfway through his turn at driving, though, when Kurt’s phone starts to ring with Burt’s ringtone. 

Kurt jerks awake and answers it, putting it on speaker. “Dad?”

“You boys at the airport?”

“Airport?” Kurt frowns and shakes his head, rubbing his eyes. “No. The last flights to Ohio had already left, and the earliest flights in the morning would have put us there close to lunchtime. We’re— where are we?”

“The middle of nowhere, Pennsylvania,” Noah answers. “I think we’ll pass by Penn State soon.”

“Well, if you’re hurrying to be here in time for your sister to be born, you don’t have to do that,” Burt says. 

“She’s here already?” Kurt asks. “That was really fast.”

“Not arguing with you about that one! I had to take a knee and catch her before she hit the floor!”

Noah and Kurt start laughing at that, and Noah has an interesting picture in his head of Burt grabbing a baseball glove and catching the baby in it. 

“So I take it things progressed not exactly according to plan, then?” Kurt says, stifling a yawn.

“Must come from Carole’s side of the family,” Burt says. “Us Hummels are good at sticking to plans.”

“Well, we’ll be there sometime in the morning, since the weather’s good,” Kurt says. “Are you at home or the hospital or what?”

“Home. Never made it out of the bathroom after Carole’s second shower. And then I caught her! I caught that baby right there in that bathroom!” 

Burt sounds like he’s had a couple of drinks, though Noah figures it’s probably some kind of adrenaline spike. He and Kurt exchange grins, then sober slightly, and Noah puts his hand on top of Kurt’s as Kurt starts to speak. “Have you talked to Finn?” Kurt asks, and Noah’s pretty sure Burt won’t pick up on the slight strain in Kurt’s voice.

“Yeah, right before I called you boys,” Burt says. “He can’t leave until after halftime tomorrow, so it’ll be around 6:15 before his flight gets in.”

“We’re supposed to fly out around 9:30, from Columbus,” Kurt says evenly. “Is Finn’s flight coming into Columbus?”

“Yeah, it is. I know we’ll all be cutting it kind of close, but we’ll at least get an hour or two of family time to get pictures of you boys with Audrey.”

“Yes.” Kurt exhales softly. “We’ll see you in the morning, Dad.”

“You two drive safely. Don’t push it, okay?” Burt says. “You stop and get a hotel if you’re getting too tired.”

“We’ll be fine. We’re switching off every two hours. Give Audrey a big kiss from us, okay?”

“I’ll do that. See you before too long.” Burt ends the call, and Kurt drops his phone into one of the empty cupholders. 

“Well.” Kurt sighs and wraps his fingers around Noah’s, squeezing them tightly. “That’s going to be.” He closes his eyes. “Fuck.”

Noah chuckles a little bitterly. “Yeah. We should have known it was coming, I guess.”

“Maybe Carole will ask him lots of questions about Wisconsin, and we’ll get to paste on fake smiles,” Kurt says, and Noah winces at his tone. 

He hasn’t heard that tone out of Kurt in a long time. Bitter, biting, sniping, and, more than anything, cold. 

“I know,” Kurt continues after a moment. “We were just a summer thing. I know. I just.”

“Don’t really want to hear it,” Noah finishes, nodding. “It’ll be fine,” he says, trying to convince himself as well. “We’ll just. Act like we used to. We’ve done fine when we talk to him.”

“Yeah.” Kurt leans his head against the window again. “Everything’ll just go right back to normal.”

 

They both drive a little too fast. Noah excuses it in his mind because it's early, and the interstate is mostly empty. Plus, they have to leave Columbus at 9:30; there's no way out of that, since it's the last possible flight that will get them home before they have to be at work on Sunday morning. That means their time in Lima is definitely limited, and if they manage to squeeze in an extra hour or so, that's probably good. 

Noah sets his phone to remind him to call Hannah at some point, since they'll be in town. Carole might even let Rina and Hannah stop by and meet Audrey, but if not, he and Kurt can always meet them up at Joey's for a quick dinner or something. 

Hannah'd kill him if he came to town and didn't see her. 

Yeah, he tries to call her once a week or so, and she sends him ridiculous emails, usually forwards, which remind him to email her something that isn't a picture of kittens or some kind of Jew thing that Nana sent her. But Noah's also gotten a couple of emails from his mom that hint that Hannah misses him more than she lets on. It doesn't surprise him, actually, and he'd probably be offended if she didn't, so taking an hour or two out of the day isn't a huge problem. 

Kurt steers them into Lima around 8 am, which makes the trip even quicker than they anticipated. The earliest flights into Ohio wouldn't have left until around 8:30. Lima looks exactly the same as when they left it, and it’s disconcerting to know they’re merely visitors, and very temporary ones at that. 

After Kurt parks the rental, they grab their bags and head towards the front door. The door opens before they can walk up the steps, and Burt’s standing in the doorway with a bundle in his arms and a slightly crazed look on his face.

“You made it!” Burt says, his voice quiet. “Audrey, look, it’s your brothers.” He holds the bundle up slightly, and they can just make out a small, pink hand protruding from the blanket. 

“Hi, Dad,” Kurt answers quietly, smiling. “Hi, Audrey.” They walk up onto the porch and Kurt stops in front of Burt. “Aren’t you pretty?”

Noah nods at Burt and stands beside Kurt, looking down at the baby in Burt’s arms. She definitely looks more like a Hummel, though Noah’s pretty sure that her chin looks kind of like Carole’s. 

“Hey, let’s get your bags in here. You’ve got bags, right?” Burt asks. He sounds like he’s not even sure what day it is, but he keeps a careful grip on Audrey. 

“Just these,” Noah answers. “Since we’re turning around so fast.”

“Carole’s sleeping. She was up a couple times with Audrey,” Burt says, keeping his voice low. “You boys eat? You want a shower or something?”

“In a bit. Why don’t you go get some food for you and Carole, Dad,” Kurt suggests. They leave their bags in the living room and then walk towards the kitchen. “We can hold her, and Carole can wake up to something to eat.”

Burt blinks at them a few times, like he can’t quite process what they’re suggesting, then he finally says, “Yeah, food would probably be good. That’s a good idea. You boys sure you’ll be alright with her, though?”

“We’ll just hold her, Dad,” Kurt says, nodding. “We’ll be fine.” Noah nods but doesn’t say anything.

“Okay. I’ll be right back. Keep an ear out for Carole, will you? If she needs anything, you can get it for her.” Burt looks between Noah and Kurt, and then nods once, gently transferring the blanket–wrapped Audrey into Kurt’s arms. “If she cries—”

“We’re fine, Dad. Go.”

Burt nods again and stares at Audrey for another moment before he turns and walks toward the kitchen, where they hear him getting his keys. The garage door opens shortly after that, then closes again. 

Kurt holds Audrey silently for a few minutes, studying her face before unwrapping the blanket a bit. She startles at the movement, and Kurt catches his breath. 

“Look.” He jostles her again, very gently, and she moves again, and Noah sees it. He grins. 

“Just like Finn’s,” he says.

“Yes. All scrunched up around her eyes, like she’s thinking.” Kurt shakes his head and smiles. “Here, put your arms out.”

Noah complies, and Kurt gently eases Audrey into his arms, then wraps an arm around Noah’s shoulders. Noah just studies her for a few minutes, her eyes still closed, and he leans his head on Kurt. “It’s easy to forget how small they are,” he says softly. 

“Yes. Well, until I remember that twenty-four hours ago she was actually inside another human being.” Kurt purses his lips. “That’s also strange.”

Noah laughs. “Yeah, it is.” He adjusts Audrey in his arms and tries to make his mind focus on the good, the positive; keeping himself from thinking about Beth the entire day might not be possible, but at least he can minimize it. “Well. Congratulations, I guess.”

Kurt laughs. “Yes, I guess so.”

 

Finn sits at his gate in O’Hare, waiting for the plane to arrive from Dallas–Fort Worth and watching his possible window of time with Kurt and Puck shrinking by the minute. He’s been waiting for the plane for so long now, the two hours they should have had together—with Audrey, of course—has dwindled to thirty minutes, if they’re lucky. He’ll barely have time to say hello to them before he’ll have to say goodbye so they can make it to the airport in time for their flight. If the plane is much later, it might be hello/goodbye _in_ the airport.

He should have missed the game. He’s kicking himself mentally for not taking his chances with the rest of the season, next season even, and missing the game. He could have flown in last night or early this morning, and they could have met Audrey together. He could have spent hours with them. Audrey’s a tiny baby, she has no idea who Finn is, and whether he got there at eight in the morning or eight at night doesn’t make any difference to her; that’s all he gave himself permission to think about last night when he made the call to stay until halftime, though.

Now the plane from Dallas-Fort Worth is over an hour later, and that decision is biting him in the ass.

Another ten minutes pass before people start walking out of the gate, and it’s another fifteen before the plane is fueled and they start loading again. As Finn settles into his seat, he sends Kurt a quick text with his new arrival time.

 _We’ll see you for just a few minutes then_ , Kurt texts back. A few minutes is better than nothing, though. It’ll give Finn long enough to hug them, to breathe them in, and maybe to look at their faces and see if they really mean it like it sounds when they talk to him. If it’s really as _over_ as it sounds on the phone or over FaceTime.

The plane starts to pull away from the gate, the flight attendant starts going through the spiel about the oxygen masks, and Finn grips the arms of the seat tightly and tries hard to not think about the last two times he was on a plane. He digs his fingernails into his palms as the plane tips up and starts to take off. Maybe they’ll have one of those tailwind things and the plane will go faster than they think.

 

“I’ll go get us some coffee,” Noah offers as soon as they’ve checked in at the kiosk and confirmed that their plane is leaving on time. Kurt nods and settles on a bench, tucking their bags under it. “Burt, what would you like?”

“Coffee’s good,” Burt says absently. 

Noah raises an eyebrow and Kurt shrugs, rolling his eyes a little, so Noah just orders a plain coffee and hopes that’s good enough. He walks back over to where Kurt and Burt are, and hands them their drinks before sitting down on the bench next to Kurt. 

“How long do we have?” Noah asks Kurt quietly. 

“Not long enough.” Kurt sighs. “Unless our flight gets delayed, or Finn’s is faster than expected.”

“So we’ll sit here until the last minute.” Noah nods. “Got it. We’re concourse B again, so.” He sighs. “Hopefully the security line won’t be too long.”

“When do you boys need to go through security?” Burt asks.

Noah takes a sip of his coffee so he doesn’t laugh, leaving Kurt to answer the question. “Not yet, Dad,” Kurt says. “We’ll see if Finn manages to get here before we have to.”

“When’s his flight supposed to get in, again?” 

Kurt sighs. “Not until after ours starts boarding, remember?” He looks at Burt and shakes his head. “You’ll let Finn drive, right?”

“What?” Burt sounds confused, then takes another sip of his coffee. “Oh, yeah, yeah. Sure, Finn can drive.”

They stay on the bench well past the time that they should have gone through security, and it’s not until the board announces that their flight has begun boarding that they go to stand in the line, still checking for updates on the incoming flights. 

“He’s at the gate,” Noah says as the party in front of them reaches the security. “What should we do?”

Before Kurt can answer, the board announces it’s the final call for their flight, which means they’re going to have to go straight on board as soon as they’re through security, and also takes the choice away from them about whether or not to duck out of line. 

“Maybe it’s better this way,” Kurt whispers. “Or if I say that, maybe I’ll convince myself eventually.” He takes a deep breath and turns towards where Burt is still standing. “We’ll call or text when we get home, Dad.”

“Alright, Kurt. You boys have a safe flight.” Burt leans across the security barrier to give first Kurt and then Noah a hug. 

Then the security line moves forward, and they put their bags on the conveyor before stepping through the detector. Noah slings his backpack over his shoulder and Kurt picks up his bag, and they start to hurry towards their gate when they hear Finn. 

“Burt! Burt! Did I miss them? Are they gone?”

They turn and step back closer to security, off to the side, and Finn’s still farther away than Noah would have thought from hearing him, but Finn’s voice can carry. “Fuck,” Noah swears, looking back at the line for security and over at the calm sign, flashing “Final Boarding” next to their flight number. 

“We can’t— we’re already cutting it too close,” Kurt says, and Noah doesn’t have to look away from staring at Finn to know Kurt’s doing the same thing. Burt points towards them, and Finn stops for a second, staring at them, before sprinting towards the glass barrier separating the screened from the unscreened. 

“Puck! Kurt!” Finn shouts as he runs to the barrier. “Hey! Kurt! Puck!”

Noah bites his lip and they step closer, as close as they can without the TSA people glaring at them or anything. Finn looks desperate, his hair a little too long, and Noah’s sure that if there wasn’t a fucking glass wall in the way, not to mention the crowd of people, there would be kissing. There is a glass wall, though, and a plane they have to catch, and he and Kurt just stand there, eyes fixed on Finn.

Finn skids to a stop in front of the wall and presses his palm against it, staring at them. “We have to go,” Kurt says helplessly, gesturing at the red flashing words on the board near them. “Finn…”

Finn nods once, and Noah has to blink when he notices Finn’s eyes filling up. There’s nothing any of them can do or say to make this any easier, but Noah’s pretty sure that any of them actually crying will make it a hell of a lot worse. He and Kurt start walking backwards, until they hear the PA system actually calling their names. At that point, they wave once at Finn before turning around and running towards their gate, making it onto the plane just before they shut the doors. The plane is already taxiing towards the runway before they get their seatbelts fastened, and Noah collapses against Kurt, shutting his eyes. 

Now they’ll probably both start crying.

 

He’s not going to make it. Even shoving his way off the plane and running at full speed through the airport, Finn knows there’s no way he’s going to make it to Kurt and Puck in time. Five minutes, just five fucking minutes with them, that was all he needed, but football and Dallas–Fort Worth and a few extra minutes sitting on the tarmac all conspired against him, and he’s not going to get even _one_ minute now.

Finn can see Burt at the end of the corridor, right by the start of the security line on the other side, but he can’t see Puck or Kurt. He’s not really close enough to shout, maybe Burt won’t even be able to understand him, but Finn starts yelling, “Burt! Burt! Did I miss them? Are they gone? Burt!”

At first, Burt just squints back at him, so Finn keeps running as fast as he can, trying not to knock anybody over, but not really caring all that much if maybe he bumps them too hard.

“Burt! Did they go? Are they gone?” Finn asks, as he comes to a stop beside Burt.

“They just went through,” Burt says, pointing through security. “You just missed them.”

“Fuck,” Finn breathes. He scans the line, then the people at the checkpoint, and finally he sees them, all the way in the back. Finn’s eyes meet Puck’s for just a second, before Finn turns and sprints back up the corridor he just came down, up to the glass security barrier separating the arrivals from the people who have cleared security, shouting their names.

They’re there, right there, on the other side of the glass, too far away to touch, too far away to smell, too far away for him to even hear them well. Finn presses his hand against the glass, right below the big warning graphic that says not to put hands on the glass, and he stares at Kurt and Puck through the barrier. Kurt points at the board, where their flight information is flashing, and says something that Finn can’t quite make out, then he says Finn’s name.

Finn’s eyes start to tear up, and it’s all he can do to keep from crying. Five minutes, that’s all he needed. He nods his head at them once, letting them go the best he can, and they start walking backwards, like they can’t look away yet. He hears their names being called over the PA system, and then Puck and Kurt each raise a hand, waving goodbye, before they turn and run in the direction of their gate. Finn watches until he can’t see them through the crowd, and he keeps watching for another minute after that before he turns and walks slowly back to Burt.

“You alright, Finn?” Burt asks. Even though it’s probably a dumb question, Finn’s still grateful Burt has to ask it, because it means that maybe Finn doesn’t look as bad as he feels. He’s not falling apart in a way that people could notice, or at least, not people with a brand new baby, who are the only kind of people he’ll have to deal with for the next two days.

“Yeah, Dad,” Finn says, forcing himself to smile; Burt looks thrilled about Finn calling him ‘Dad’, so that helps. Thinking about Audrey does, too, because that’s the reason he’s here, and she’s a happy thing. “Yeah, I just had really wanted to see them before they left, is all.”

Burt nods like he understands, which is a step up over Finn, who doesn’t understand at all. “Twelve hours, that’s all they got this time. Hate to have to send them back to New York so fast, but they’ve got work.” Finn nods in response, and neither of them talk until they’re out to the car, where Burt tosses Finn the keys. “Kurt made me promise to let you drive.”

Finn tosses his carry-on bag into the backseat, and before they’re even out of the parking lot, Burt’s nodded off against the window, where he sleeps the whole hour and a half drive back to Lima. As he drives into Lima, Finn realizes that up to this point, he’d really believed that coming back would feel like coming home—he lived there for eighteen and a half years, after all—but the fact is, it doesn’t. It doesn’t feel like home at all. Madison, even though he likes it there, doesn’t feel like home, either, and Finn is suddenly struck with the understanding that he doesn’t really _have_ a home. Not anymore.

Finn parks the car in the garage, and he and Burt walk into the house. It smells like Rina’s cooking, the casserole stuff she always made that Finn’s mom never really did, and Finn’s willing to bet that Rina and Hannah were there not that long ago. As much as he loves Hannah, though, he’s relieved they’re not still there now.

“Honey?” Burt calls out quietly. “You doing okay?”

“We’re fine!” Carole calls back, and there’s a tiny squawk at the end of the sentence. “Finn?”

“Is that Audrey? Did I hear her squeaking?” Finn says. He walks up the stairs towards Mom and Burt’s bedroom. “Hey, Mom! _Hey_ , Audrey!”

“Be glad you weren’t here two hours ago!” Carole laughs. “She was screaming, then. Come in!”

“Can I hold her?” Finn asks, already holding his arms out for her. “She was probably upset her other brothers were leaving her, weren’t you, Audie?”

Carole lifts Audrey up into Finn’s arms, and Audrey blinks a few times before stopping to just stare at Finn’s face. Finn stares back at her, looking at her squished–up little red face and her funny folded up ears. She pretty much looks like every other baby Finn has ever seen, except more perfect, and a little bit like Kurt.

“Hey, Audrey,” Finn whispers to her. He sits down on the foot of his mom and Burt’s bed. “Hey, Audie-Aud. I’m your other brother, Finn.”

“Oh, no,” Carole says after a moment. “I think that squeaking was her pooping. If you want to hand her back, Finn, I’ll change her.”

“Nah, it’s ok,” Finn says. “Where’s her diaper stuff? We’ll figure out this diaper thing, huh, Audie-Aud?”

Audrey squeaks again, blinking some more. “Are you sure, honey?” Carole asks dubiously. “Her changing table is in her room, but we’ve got a few diapers and wipes in here.”

“Well, how about I’ll change her in here and you can talk me through it,” Finn says. “It’s an important thing to know how to do, especially since I’m gonna kidnap her and bring her back to Madison with me. You wanna be a Badger, Aud?” 

Carole passes Finn a pad that he guesses he’s supposed to put down underneath Audrey, so he lays the pad on the bed and then Audrey on top of it. She wiggles and makes a face, sticking her tongue out like a little lizard. Finn laughs at her.

“You can tell she’s related to Kurt, because she’s a lizard, too,” Finn says quietly. “Do I have to unsnap all of these snaps, or just the bottom ones?”

“The bottom ones. You think so? All I heard earlier was how she makes a face just like you. Apparently she’s a very thoughtful newborn.” 

“Nah, she looks like Kurt,” Finn declares. He starts unfastening the snaps at the bottom of her teensy little pajamas. “She’s even got his hair. It’s very excited hair!”

“Did you get a chance to talk to them at the airport?” Carole asks, passing Finn a box of wipes and a clean diaper. 

Finn doesn’t answer her right away, and then he unfastens Audrey’s dirty diaper and is too distracted to answer. “Mom! Something’s, like, _wrong_ here!”

“What is it?” Carole asks. “What do you mean? She looked fine earlier.”

“Her poop! It’s, it’s… _black_!”

“That’s the meconium, Finn. It’s supposed to be that way, for the first few days,” Carole says calmly. “It’s just a bit stickier than it will be later.”

“Yeah, sticky’s kind of an understatement, Mom,” Finn says, as he tries to remove what he’s pretty sure is actually road tar from Audrey’s tiny little butt. “Sorry, Audie-Aud. I’m sorry this stuff came out of you. That’s no fun.” 

It takes him five wipes, but he does get her all clean, though by this point, she’s starting to scrunch up her face and turn really red, like she’s about to explode. Carole hands him a diaper that doesn’t look big enough to fit anybody human, but once he unfolds it, it does actually fit under Audrey pretty well. He only has to unfasten and refasten it twice before it gets it on there correctly, and he’s just snapping the last snap when she starts to cry.

“She’s probably hungry again,” Carole says. “Hand her here and you can run downstairs and warm up some of that casserole Rina made, if you want.”

Finn scoops Audrey back up and carefully hands her back to Carole. “Sure, that sounds good. Can I bring anything back upstairs for you?”

“If you could refill that water bottle,” Carole says, gesturing towards a large insulated bottle on the bedside table. “Oh, and a granola bar.”

“Definitely.” Finn leans over and kisses the top of Audrey’s head. “Oh, hey, she smells good!”

Carole beams. “Yes.”

“Ok, Mom, I’ll be right back.” 

Finn walks down the hall, making a point of not looking into either one of the bedrooms that used to be his and Kurt’s, and then down the stairs. Burt’s passed out in his chair in the living room, so Finn goes straight into the kitchen. He puts a plateful of Rina’s casserole into the microwave, refills Carole’s water bottle, and rifles through the cabinet for the granola bars. He eats the casserole in about five bites, and then walks back upstairs with the water and granola bar. 

“Here you go, Mom,” Finn says, setting the water bottle and granola on the bedside table next to Carole. “What’s Aud— whoa, ok, she’s eating! Do you want me to, like, _go out_ or something?” He averts his eyes, because, well, mom–boob.

“I’m fine if you’re fine, Finn,” Carole responds, reaching for the granola bar and then frowning. “Can you open that for me, actually?”

Finn still keeps his face turned slightly away while he opens the granola bar, but when he hands it back to Carole, unwrapped, he realizes it’s actually mostly just baby head in the way, anyway, and that Audrey makes very cute, tiny happy noises while she eats. 

“Aw, she sounds so happy,” Finn says. “Can I hold her more when she’s done?”

“Of course,” Carole says, nodding before she takes a bite of the granola bar. “I’ll take a few pictures, if you want. You brought your phone up here?”

“Yeah, it’s right here.” Finn digs his phone out of his pocket. “Did you guys get some good pictures from… today?” He can’t quite bring himself to say ‘pictures of Audrey with Kurt and Puck’ because saying it out loud just makes it feel even worse that they won’t have any pictures of the four of them together.

“I think at least a few turned out well.” Carole smiles and shakes her head. “We’ll grab Burt’s phone and send a few to you.”

“Thanks, Mom,” Finn says quietly. “I’d like that.”

Audrey finishes eating just a couple of minutes later, and Carole hands her to Finn, picking up Finn’s phone. “Smile!” Carole reminds him, just before snapping a series of shots. “Oh, those are good, Finn. You should post them on Facebook!”

 

It’s close to midnight when the plane lands at LaGuardia, and Noah’s a little out of it, thanks to the Xanax he took as soon as a flight attendant brought around water after take-off. They decide to take a taxi home, since they’re not really sure if the bus and subway will get them home this late, though it is a Saturday night. 

They’re settled in the taxi when Kurt pulls out his phone to check his messages. “Oh, check your texts,” he says quietly, and Noah grabs his phone. 

There’s a single picture from Finn, of him holding Audrey, and while overall someone would say it’s a happy picture, Noah and Kurt both know Finn well enough to see the lingering hint of despair in it. 

“Any other day,” Kurt murmurs, and Noah nods, even though they both know that, strictly speaking, that might not have been true. 

“I feel like we’ve been in some strange, I don’t know. Space out of time. Time out of space.” Noah leans his head back against the seat of the cab. “And now we’re back, and everything’s fine, except.”

“Except for one thing.”


End file.
